Leaving Kumasi: reflections, obervations and a list
A lifetime ago I worked on a northern Australian cattle station. One of those places so huge they dwarf small European countries and their annual cattle muster is done by […]
Tag Archives: Ghana
FIFOs and DIDOs.
85. That’s a rough estimate of the number of times THIS YEAR I have packed bags, packed cars or on those very lucky weeks, boarded planes to travel. Most of […]
TGIA – Thank God it’s Africa
This week’s TGIA is brought to you by all the colour, chaos and retail opportunities of Kejetia Market and a puppeteer I met there. Yesterday I was on one of […]
TGIA – Thank God it’s Africa
{TGIA is my weekly post about all the nutty things happen when you live in Africa. Sometimes they’re funny, sometimes they’re a little dangerous, sometimes they’re a heady combination of […]
Our neighbourhood.
In Kumasi we live in a new, large, white apartment block, imposingly fresh on the join between two roads; one asphalt, one dirt. During the day I park […]
TGIA – Thank God it’s Africa
First World Problems – it’s the new catchphrase of the year (decade?) isn’t it? I think it’s kind of hilarious, a recognition that we’ve all become far too precious in […]
It’s beginning to look at lot like….BRAZIL!
It was with great excitement that we headed back to Baba Yara Stadium in Kumasi for the Black Stars of Ghana vs Pharaohs of Egypt game last week. (How awesome are […]
TGIA – Thank God it’s Africa
I thought I’d start a little series along the lines of TGIF – Thank God It’s Friday. Nutty things happen here all the time. Sometimes they’re funny, sometimes they’re a […]
Leibster Award – or random facts about me
Like you’re actually interested….BUT Mani from A new life in India has very kindly nominated me for a Leibester award. Mani is a Mexican married to an American who now lives […]
another trip to Kejetia market – the fabrics
I’ve had a rough few weeks of lets call it, cultural re-awakening. When you thought you had life in your foreign country under control, then the old culture shock creeps […]
six degrees north 